a season of simmering

some reflections + a new poem

welcome moon gazer, flower admirer, skinny dipper, public crier, tree hugger, shower singer, notes app poetry writer, early riser, coffee drinker, tea sipper, living room dancer, sunset lover, and everyone in between. this is sacred somethings, musings on sensitivity, embodiment, grief, and the sacred in every day.

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Long time no see, sweeties and substackers!

It’s been nearly six months since I last published anything here, but fear not!! I have continued to write. I am knee (maybe chest) deep in scribbled brain dumps written on rainy mornings, angry bursts of thought typed rapidly into my notes app between tasks at work, and passion-imbued stanzas written from my best friend’s couch, still looking for a permanent home within a poem.

Pictured above is a photo of my current moleskin (brat green) and my most recently completed one (turquoise). My journal goes everywhere with me <3 I like decorating the back covers of each one with stickers I collect during the time I’m using them. It adds an extra layer of creativity and color, while also contributing to a snapshot effect of the moment in time each journal lives through.

At the time of writing this, I have just clicked back and re-read my last published post, titled the naked neighbor. I remember the feeling of giddiness that piece was born from. I can feel the warmth of six-month-ago-kenz’s laughter through her words. I feel grateful to be reminded of that sucrose sweet moment in time, and trust that feeling will return again someday.

But it would be a disservice to myself (and to you too, reader) to sugarcoat the reality of where I write from now. The flavor of this moment is less sweet, more bitter. Much like the scent of my morning coffee still lingering on my lips.

on simmering:

These last six months have been a period of simmering—of quiet observation and frequent contemplation while life around me is boiling. There is so much happening in rapid succession in my personal life, at the national scale, and at the global scale. Every day contains a new onslaught of horrors as the united states government further perpetuates fascist ideologies and enacts violent legislation¹. And still, I share smiles with neighbors and meals with friends, just like always. Artists and movement workers and educators continue their work, just like always. The birds sing and the first hints of spring burst through the soil, just like always.

I’ve found that nothing can capture the particular obscurity, complexity, and layers of a life like this the way poetry can. In an increasingly dichotomizing society, poetry exists outside of binaries. Poetry listens, challenges, and imagines. Lately, writing poems has been a refuge. How else can I make any sense of the madness but through art?

a found poem of mine, created using subheadings from Public Display Art's most recent issue.

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we must love this world

we must love this world.
the dreamers the artists the rebels,
the pulsing current of 
this cultural moment,

go--collect feelings and glitter,
live in curiosity swelled to seduction
stand dreaming not yielding go do and dance and
bring a political appetite
for our art is our greatest
antidote to numbing out.

listening to:

• sweet surrender by hailey blais

• death & romance by magdalena bay

• just like north by angie mcmahon

currently grounding with:

• Chani—I love this resource. Chani’s is a voice i am so grateful to have in these times.

• You are Here: Poetry in The Natural World, edited and introduced by Ada Limón

• Pleasure Activism by adriennemareebrown—I may have to write an entirely separate essay on the divine gift that is this book. It is my new bible.

• flowering rosemary. stunning violet crocuses sprouting in vibrant defiance. bright daffodils. green, where not long ago there was nothing. pink blooms against a crisp blue sky.

  

comment below!!

What temperature is your life right now? Is it at a simmer? A boil? Room temp and still? How are you resisting oppressive systems in your every day life? What brings you hope? What flavor does this moment leave on your tongue?

thank you for your presence,

kenz <3

1. While I don’t believe that government is gonna save us, I believe in applying pressure from many angles and have been utilizing the 5 Calls app to call my legislators and demand they do everything in their power to interrupt the legislative violence we are witnessing.